


Wrecked

by Nutrix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Slash, a bit angst, self hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutrix/pseuds/Nutrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean looking back on his life, his rights, his wrongs & Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrecked

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt at anything that is Supernatural. So forgive me if it's a bit out of character or incorrect I'm in this fandom for like 5 days or so. I fell completely with dean so its more a dean fic than Destiel.  
> No beta, if someone want to help me it would be fantastic.  
> Enjoy.

My name is Dean Winchester and I died for the first time on May 15th 2008. We all think about the day we die, will it be from old age, will it be sudden, and will it be forever? For me it was none of the above. I died for my brother. I gave my soul for him. We use the term soul so freely, _soul mates, soulless, I would sell my soul for_ , we never think about what it really means, not really. I had a soul, but I never given it a second thought, so on the night my brother died I trade it for his life back.

I’m a son and a brother; I’m not good at any of it. I was my dad’s little brave boy, his little soldier. I did everything he ever told me, no questioning whatever is right or wrong, _Daddy knows best_.  
As a child you don’t question whatever you parents do is right or wrong, because it’s all you have, it’s all you ever known. It was easy to forgive my dad for what he did to us, he was heartbroken, he was angry he sought revenge; we were just in the way. He did his best, the best he knew, we were just collateral damage. As you grow up you start to see your parents differently, as humans who can do mistakes, who aren’t perfect, who do things that hurt you, and you forgive them. You no longer have the indulgence to blind faith; you have to make your own decisions, your own mistakes, and that when it gets hard because it’s easy to forgive others, but you can never forgive yourself.

I became what my dad taught me to become. I’m a hunter, all those creatures that live at night and scare us are real, and I hunt them. My hands are dripping with blood, I’ve killed more creatures that I can count, I killed humans, I’ve taken their life in the name of the mission, in the name of saving the human race, I had reasons; _good reasons_. Late at night when I look at my hands all I can see is the blood, all I can feel is emptiness, those reasons don’t change the fact that I’m a killer, and it doesn’t matter how many times you rinse your hands the blood can never be washed away.  
Human beings always look for excuses for the things we do, I don’t have money so I steal, we need to defend our Country so we kill, but it’s nothing but excuses. We always ask how God let’s these horrible things happen, how can he just sit by, when we murder each other, where was he when a man walked into an elementary school and slathers children where is this God we pray for? We always look to accuse. God gave us a free will so the real question is not how God let us do all these things, but why we allowed these things to happen. We have the power to stop it, to stop all this suffering, but we never use it. God isn’t a monster for not stopping us, we are the monsters.

So the things I do are on me I choose to be hunter, I choose to be a killer all the blood is on me.

_I’m the monster._

I went through life thinking that I don’t deserve to be happy, not me, not for the things I have done. Monsters don’t deserve happiness. Everyone whose life I touched died; I infected them with my rottenness. I ruined the lives of innocent people whose only crime was to let me into their life. My happiness doesn’t worth it. All I have instead is a hole, bottomless hole. Nothing I tried could fill it, not the booze I drained down there, not the women I slept with, not even the family I tried to have. Some people think I’m obsessed with brother, but when it’s the only thing I have, the only thing I managed not ruin completely, is it obsession? Or maybe it’s just survivor.  
So when my soul was dragged to hell, it felt right, every cut, every torture I felt, I knew I deserved it. You welcome the pain, because sometimes, _sometimes_ pain is better than nothing.  

But every so often even when we think we’re insignificant, someone somewhere believes in us. He saves us, even if we don’t believe we deserve to be saved, even if we’re not worth to be saved, he does.

I’m marked by his hand, reminding me every day of my sins, of where I was and what I did. But it’s there as a relentless reminder, that for him I was something worth saving.  
I didn’t always trust him, we have our fallouts. It’s different with him, no matter how much I push him away he always comes back. He’s a constant in my life, someone that for the first time in my life I trust to come back, to be by my side, to comfort me. It took me time to understand that when he dragged me out of hell he took with him more that my soul. He gave me something that I thought I lost a long time ago, he gives me hope. When I’m with him I’m happy fully and utterly happy for the first time of my life. I still think I’m broken sometimes, and he’s the only one with the instructions how to put me back together again.

His hands have many purposes, he can heal you, kill you, send you back in time with a single touch, but for me those hands are pure desire. I tremble under his touch, every cell of body screaming with yearning. His lips that with one word can destroy you, mumble stupid nonsenses against mine, swallow screams of pleasure. The warmth of his body is my refuge. The soft whisper of his breath on my skin when we fall asleep makes me whole. When I’m with him he shines so bright all the darkness in me disappear.

He is God's son, but for me he is mine, mine in every way possible, and I’m his. I love him, I choose to give my soul once more, and it’s a perfect match to his.

 

 _Fin_. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr ishipmyselfwithoxygen.


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